Let it Shine

by Let it Shine (retail) (epub)

  Coming across the room, Ted gave her a fleeting kiss. ‘So long as you’re up, that’s all you should worry about,’ he declared. ‘Don’t make yourself late, waiting for her.’ As he went out the door, he called back, ‘Think on… I shall want to hear all about it when you get home tonight.’

  It wasn’t long before Peggy returned, with Betsy lagging behind. ‘I’ll hate the place, I know I will!’ The girl was in one of her difficult moods.

  ‘Nonsense! Sit yourself down, dear, and I’ll make a fresh brew.’ With that Peggy went into the kitchen, humming a tune, and pleased with herself.

  Throwing herself into the chair, Betsy piled two eggs and a slice of bacon onto her plate. Before Peggy returned from the kitchen, that little lot had been devoured, and she was already into her second piece of toast and jam.

  ‘That’s the ticket,’ Peggy encouraged. ‘Set off on a full stomach and you’ll sail through the day like a boat on the seas, that’s what my mother used to say, God rest her.’

  Ellie looked at her twin, bent and grumpy, with her tousled hair and bloodshot eyes, and she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘More like a barge down the canal,’ she joked, and got a filthy look from Betsy for her troubles.

  * * *

  It was time to leave. Betsy was ready, though she moaned and groaned the whole time. ‘I won’t like it, I know I won’t!’

  Proud and relieved, Peggy was there at the door to see them off. ‘Now then, Betsy, you must be on your best behaviour,’ she warned. ‘It’s your first day, remember, so you’ll need to pay attention, or the boss might decide not to keep you on.’

  The girl shrugged. ‘He can please himself. I’m sure it won’t bother me if he sends us packing.’

  ‘Good morning. First day at work, is it?’ Mrs Noonan lived in the end house; she was a nosy soul but well-meaning. ‘Here’s a word of advice: Keep your opinions to yourself and do as you’re told – and you can’t go wrong.’

  Betsy opened her mouth to retort, but Ellie wisely intervened. ‘Thank you, Mrs Noonan,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure we’ll be all right.’

  Peggy was still on the doorstep when they turned the corner. ‘I meant what I said,’ Betsy reiterated. ‘I really don’t care if we get shown the door.’

  ‘Well, I do!’ Ellie would not let her twin spoil this special day. ‘You’re beginning to get on my nerves with all your griping. Go back if you want to. But you’ll be on your own, ’cause I’m off to earn a wage.’ With that she quickened her steps.

  When in that instance, the tram suddenly came into view at the end of Penny Street, she broke into a run. ‘The tram’s here, Betsy,’ she cried. ‘You’d best make up your mind now. If you don’t get on it, you’ll miss the train and then you won’t have any choice.’ Sprinting towards the tram with her arm up to alert the driver, she called out that they were on their way.

  ‘Wait for me!’ Betsy cried, and Ellie smiled to herself. She had already suspected that her sister would not go back to the house without her; however much she wanted to.

  Puffing and panting, Betsy scrambled into the seat beside Ellie. ‘I don’t care what anybody says,’ she gasped. ‘If I don’t like it, I won’t stay.’

  Ellie was past listening. Right now, as the tram rumbled towards the railway station, she was thinking of the day ahead. She wondered what kind of people she would be working with, and how they would treat her. From now on, every day would be different. Her whole life would be different. She was no longer a schoolgirl, she was a young woman; all grown-up and about to make her own way in the world. It was a wonderful feeling. And, more than anything, she was looking forward to seeing Mick again.

  Betsy dug her in the ribs. ‘Hey! I’m talking to you.’

  ‘Sorry, Betsy. I didn’t hear you,’ Ellie apologised.

  Her sister’s face lifted in a crafty smile. ‘You were thinking of him, weren’t you?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know who. Mick Fellowes.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’

  ‘Yes, you were! You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘I was just thinking, that’s all,’ Ellie said patiently.

  ‘I know – you were thinking about him.’ Betsy had no intention of letting the matter drop.

  ‘I was thinking about what it might be like working at the factory, if you must know.’

  ‘So why are you blushing all shades of crimson?’ Betsy said triumphantly.

  Knowing she could not answer without lying outright, Ellie turned her head away and stared out the window. It was true – she was blushing. And it was like that whenever she thought of Mick. It was like it now, as they got off the tram and ran all the way to the train. The nearer they got to Blackburn town, and Mick… the more excited she became.

  The train ride was short but enjoyable. The train was like a real, live thing; singing as it went along, its wheels clanked against the iron rails, making that wonderful, rhythmic sound as it hurried on its way. All around them, great frothy balloons of steam whispered against the windows, before vanishing into thin air.

  Inside the carriage, the early-morning folk chatted and chuckled, and Ellie listened with interest. There was an elderly couple, busy making plans as to what they might buy at market. ‘We need a new brush-head,’ the woman said, and her husband mentioned how they never seemed to last five minutes these days.

  In another pair of seats, two young women were discussing where to go on Saturday night; one wanted to go to the flicks, the other to the Palais. In the end, they agreed to go to the afternoon matinee, then on to the Palais afterwards.

  A middle-aged couple were having a quiet argument, and just in front of Betsy and Ellie sat another, younger couple, staring into each other’s eyes. They were obviously very much in love.

  When the train arrived at Blackburn railway station, Ellie glanced at the clock. ‘Oh no – we’ve only got five minutes to get there,’ she said. ‘Come on, sis. We’ll have to run. We don’t want to be late on our first day.’

  Taking to their heels, the girls darted across the Boulevard, then down Ainsworth Street, up and over the bridge and they were there.

  The shoe-factory was situated right at the end of a cobbled back street. ‘It’s not much of a place, is it?’ Betsy never had a good word to say about anything or anybody.

  They paused outside, looking up at the building and wishing they’d started the same time as everybody else because now, when they walked through those doors, everybody would look up and stare, and it would be awful.

  The building was like any other warehouse; square and grey, with many small windows and two big doors, and outside, a great stack of boxes and sacks piled against the wall. There was a horse and cart, its wooden rim painted with the message in bold, white letters:

  BRINDLE SHOES A PLEASURE TO WEAR

  There were also two newly purchased black vans painted with the same slogan; the vans now beginning to take their place in the scheme of things alongside the age-old means of horse and cart.

  As they neared the entrance, they could hear the faint hum of machinery, and as the girls went through the doors and into their new world, the smell of leather and dye was overpowering.

  Betsy made a face. ‘Phew! I’m glad I’m not working down here!’

  Ellie, though, thought it was a magical place. To the right and left of them were great vats of different-coloured dye. Above these, dripping from huge wooden racks, was layer upon layer of leather. It was obvious the leather had only just been dipped into the vats, because now the excess dye was raining back into the vats, making musical patterns as the drops fell one after the other into the liquid.

  To the right of the vats, two men could be seen hauling away the dried leather; while further down the line, others were laying the pieces out on long tables, where they were trimmed and shaped before being stacked, in the different colours, on nearby trolleys. The trolleys were taken one at a time to a group of men, whose task was to cut the leather down to workable pieces. That done, th
e pieces were taken to yet another group of workers, mostly women.

  Talking and laughing, and as yet unaware that they were being watched, the turbaned women sat up at the benches, their busy hands and minds turning the sheets of stiffened leather into shoes of every shape and size. When this highly skilled task was finished, the shoes were boxed and labelled, and stacked sky high onto yet more trolleys, which, when full, were wheeled away to be loaded into the various means of transport, ready for the shops.

  ‘Well, well!’ The man was short in stature, with a lovely smile and bright blue eyes that sparkled from a small, perfectly-shaped face. ‘It’s Ellie and Betsy Bolton, isn’t it?’ he recalled. ‘Come to start work this very morning, am I right?’

  ‘Good morning, Mr Brindle,’ they replied, and though he was a charming man, they both felt a little in awe of him. After all, he was the boss here.

  And being the boss, he was a very busy man. ‘I’ll hand you over to my foreman, if I may,’ he announced, and even without being summoned, Mick Fellowes appeared from somewhere behind them. ‘Ah! There you are, Mick.’ Mr Brindle smiled on each in turn. ‘You’ll be well taken care of now,’ he told them. Then off he went, and would not be seen again until Friday.

  ‘He travels a lot,’ Mick explained. ‘He won’t allow anybody else to buy the leather, see. It has to be the very best for his shoes. He reckons he’s the only one who can tell a good skin from a bad one – and he’s probably right.’

  Smiling at Ellie, he made her heart turn over. ‘Are you sure you’ve done the right thing in opting to work down here, instead of up in the office?’

  Ellie looked around her. She heard the women laughing, and she saw how those ugly, misshapen portions of leather had been transformed into the most beautiful shoes. As she looked up, a little old man winked cheekily at her, then got a clip round the ear from his grinning female mate. It made her smile. Made her feel as if she belonged. ‘I’m sure,’ she told Mick.

  ‘And so am I,’ he said softly. So softly in fact, that Betsy looked at Ellie with a sly little grin. Her twin didn’t even notice. She had eyes only for Mick.

  As they walked along, Mick explained, ‘You should know, lasses, the factory backs onto the canal. We have our fair share of rats in here, but it’s all taken care of, so there’s no need for you to be worried.’

  But Ellie wasn’t worried. Mick was here, and she would see him every working day. That was all she could think of.

  As they turned the corner into the loading bay, Betsy was invited to look at the paperwork, parts of which she would be responsible for.

  Meantime, Mick spoke to Ellie, his brown eyes shining down on her. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said simply.

  And so was Ellie.

  PART THREE

  OCTOBER 1935

  FINDING OUT

  Chapter Eleven

  Daisy had seen it coming, but now, when it was really happening, she felt afraid.

  ‘He’ll blame me, he allus does!’ Shaking with fear she started crying. ‘Don’t go, miss,’ she pleaded. ‘Don’t go without telling him, ’cause you know he’ll only take it out on me.’

  Listening, but not taking it in, Ruth continued to fill the portmanteau with clothes and belongings. ‘Look, I’m not taking anything that doesn’t belong to me. He can’t say I’ve fleeced him – can he, eh? He’s had his money’s worth from me, and I’ve never once complained, not even when he… when he got that man to…’

  ‘To what, miss?’ Daisy had already heard enough whispers and innuendoes to know that something very bad had gone on, but she had never really been sure.

  ‘Nothing, Daisy.’ Realising how close she had come to branding her lover a murderer, Ruth Clegg took a deep breath and finished the sentence in a different direction. ‘I was just thinking about how he manipulates things to his own advantage. Look at what he’s done to his own mother – how cold and unloving he can be. And look how he’s thrashed me at times! You must have seen and heard enough to know what a terrible bully Peter is.’

  ‘That’s what I mean, miss. When he comes home and finds you gone, it’s me he’ll get angry with.’ She burst into tears.

  Ruth shook her head. ‘I’ve never refused him anything. So what’s he got to be angry about, tell me that?’

  Daisy couldn’t stop shaking. ‘But he will, miss! You know he will. When he gets in a temper he lashes out at the nearest thing, and with you gone, the nearest thing will be me, won’t it?’

  ‘Keep out of his way then, you daft devil!’ Ruth didn’t want the girl hurt. She was a nice enough little thing, when all was said and done. ‘Look, Daisy, have you no mam or dad? Isn’t there somewhere you can go, away from this place? Away from him?’

  ‘No, miss.’ Another thing that had made Daisy curious, was the manner in which Ruth was leaving, ‘Are you really not taking any of them beautiful clothes, miss?’

  ‘I want nothing from that bastard!’ Ruth said bitterly. ‘Besides, they weren’t given out of love. They were payment for services rendered, that’s all.’ She sat on the bed and, looking up at Daisy, spoke from the heart. ‘I’ll admit that once upon a time I loved him – or was under his spell at any rate – and I stupidly thought there might be a chance I could end up being his wife. “Mrs Peter Williams”.’ She laughed harshly. ‘What a sorry fool I was! Well, bugger him and his kind. I hope he rots in hell! As for the clothes, I never want to see them again. He can give them to his next floozie, that’s what I say.’ An idea struck her then. ‘Daisy, why don’t you take what you want, before he comes home. He won’t know. He never took any real notice of what I was wearing anyway. Preferred me without me clothes on, I daresay.’

  The younger girl was horrified. The very idea! ‘Ooh, no, miss. I wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Then yer a bloody fool, that’s all I can say.’ Gesturing to the drab clothes she had first worn on coming to this house, Ruth explained, ‘These are mine, bought and paid for. I’ve left him a note. In it I wrote that it’s over between us, and that I’ve told no one of my plans – not even you. So you see, Daisy, he has no reason to have a go at you, not if you don’t know anything about it.’

  Calling Daisy’s attention to the ticking clock on the mantelpiece, she told her, ‘I’ve a thirst on me like a raging bull.’ It was fear, she knew – fear of him suddenly bursting in and seeing what she was up to. ‘A nice hot brew wouldn’t go amiss, with an extra dip of sugar into the bargain if you don’t mind,’ she told the hapless girl.

  ‘Very well, miss.’

  As she went away to put the kettle on, Daisy was not wholly convinced that she wouldn’t be hung, drawn and quartered when the master got back.

  While Daisy went to the kitchen, Ruth discreetly followed – along the landing and down the stairs, always a step or two behind Daisy, but soft enough for her not to know. At the bottom, she hurried across the hall to Peter’s office.

  Softly going inside she closed the door and standing with her back to it for a moment, realised the enormity of what she was about to do. ‘Gawd, Ruth, if he ever finds out about this, you’ll be cut into bite-size pieces and fed to the dogs in the street.’ Closing her eyes, she caught her breath at her own foolhardiness.

  In all the time she had lived in this house, she had never been invited into this room. Yet she knew it well, because hadn’t she been bold enough to creep in here time and again, secretly checking on his hoard of money, and eavesdropping on his criminal dealings with men of shady repute. Peter Williams was an evil man. Little by little Ruth Clegg had come to learn that, and to be afraid for her own well-being.

  Yet to her shame, she had stayed, enjoying what money could buy, getting used to being pampered with a maid, and eating from a table filled with food she had not cooked, wearing clothes that she would never have been able to afford, and sharing a bed lined with silken sheets. All of that had been good, and she might never have given it up, until he had made her with child, and threatened her life. Now, she had no choice. In leaving
, she was doing what she should have done months ago.

  She had no regrets about parting from him, only about having come so close to being as bad a person as he was. Damn his wicked soul!

  Glittering with fear, her quick, sharp eyes glanced round the room. Well-lit and spacious, the room was lined with shelves and cupboards. In the centre stood a large oak desk, littered with piles of papers and grey boxes containing all manner of documents – records of his mother’s properties, urgent repairs needed, numerous rental contracts and important details of property deals in the offing.

  All that side of it was of small interest to Ruth. It was the amount of ready cash he kept in his hidey-hole that had drawn her to this room on this particular day. With this in mind, she went to the desk, opened the bottom drawer and, pulling out the little shelf that was secretly tucked under the lip, removed the small key that was lying there.

  Next, she went to the far end of the room. Here she put her back to the tall filing cabinet and began easing it away from the wall; all the while her eyes darting to the door, her heart leaping at every sound and her movements so soft, the sharpest ears would not have detected them.

  Built into the wall behind the cabinet was a heavy, grey metal safe. Sliding the key into the lock, she opened the door and caught her breath in amazement, for lying before her eyes was a great stack of notes and gold – more money than she had ever seen before. ‘By! This isn’t only the rent-money.’ She gave a small whistle. ‘That cunning bugger must have done some sort of a deal and not told me about it!’ But then he hadn’t told her about his work for some time now.

  Quickly, before Daisy came looking for her with the tea, she took out the thick wad of notes and flipped them through her fingers. ‘Cor! There must be hundreds here!’ Not daring to take more, she counted out three and put the rest back, exactly as she had found them.